Chapter 37

Chloe

The remainder of our time at the club was indeed very brief, and Dom whisked me away again, back to the penthouse, about as fast as I expected.

After another "workout," one where I was surprisingly allowed to take the reins that much more, Dom and I fell asleep cuddled up in his large bed.

Of course, it's morning now, and as I stretch across the empty bed, I look around for Dom.

He's not in the room at all, but I can hear noises from down the hall. As I make to get up, a bout of nausea has me pausing, and it's a few minutes before I can bring myself to stand.

There has to be a way to deal with this that doesn't involve scarfing down countless Pepto-Bismol tablets.

I sip some of the water I left on the nightstand, and that seems to help—for now.

I can actually feel my empty stomach gratefully accept the liquid, and I wonder if making sure I have a few snacks near the bed is a good idea.

Slipping on some sweats, a tee, and socks, I pad out into the living room to find Dom behind the counter in the kitchen.

He's clearly cooking up something, and as I take a deep breath, I realize it's French toast again. Aww, he made my favorite. Here's hoping I can keep it down .

It occurs to me, yet again, that I really need to tell him about his impending fatherhood, and I decide that once I've had some breakfast, it'll be the right time.

"Hi."

I smile as Dom turns around with a smirk and presents a plate of the sweet treat, complete with raspberries and whipped cream.

"Good morning." He sets the plate down in front of me at the island, leaning across to give me a kiss. "Hope you slept well."

"I think you know I did. I'm pretty sure a fire alarm wouldn't have woken me up after last night's activities."

Dom chuckles, and I do my best to breathe around the nausea that wants to steal my favorite meal from me.

"Well, dig in."

He comes around and joins me with his own plate. Surprisingly, I'm actually able to eat a decent amount of the French toast before my stomach tells me it's had enough.

There's a lull in our effortless conversation as Dom gets up to put our dishes in the sink, and I nod my head to myself.

Okay, Chloe. Now or never.

"So, Dom." I clear my throat when it suddenly tightens. "Um, there's something I wanted to talk to you about."

The sound of water rushing over the plates makes it hard to hear, and Dom shuts it off, spinning around with his brows raised.

"Sorry, what was that?"

"I wanted to?—"

Ring, ring.

My phone goes off on the coffee table, and I sigh. Going over to snag it off the glass where it's vibrating annoyingly, I see a 1-800 caller again.

Shit .

I set it down on the couch, letting it ring.

"Aren't you going to answer that?"

"Nah, it's nothing." I smile tightly.

"Chloe—" Dom comes around from the sink and goes for the phone "—you're an amazing woman. But you suck at lying."

He hands it to me with an encouraging just answer it face, and I exhale hard.

"Fine."

Swiping the little green circle, I answer and put it to my ear, already knowing who's calling me.

"Hello."

"Hello. Is this Ms. Hamilton?" I don't recognize the voice, but the tone is immediately familiar.

"Yes."

I know I shouldn't be rude to the person. They're just doing their job, but I can't keep the annoyance from my voice.

"Hello, Ms. Hamilton, I'm Eric. I'm calling on behalf of a medical debt associated with services from New Hope Hospital for one Grace Hamilton."

"Yes, I know. I don't have it all right now. Is there any way I can do that plan thing someone mentioned?"

Dom quirks a brow at me, and I shake my head, putting my hand over the receiver. "It's nothing. Don't worry about it."

"Of course, Ms. Hamilton. What can you put toward the debt today?"

"Uh…"

I think about my bank account and the two hundred and thirty dollars in it. In theory, that needs to last me two weeks.

I know I don't have as many expenses since I'm staying with Dom, but I've been trying to cover groceries because I feel shitty offering nothing to the finances of the house.

"Um, maybe, like, ten?"

"Ten thousand?"

I gawk for a second, but considering the debt is for a little over fifty grand, that number isn't as insane as it first sounds.

"No." I look up at Dom, then move to the other side of the room, keeping my voice low. "Like ten dollars."

"Ah, I see. All right, that's fine. I can collect that today and set you up with a monthly plan. How much do you think you can afford to pay each month?"

My mind scrambles as my heart pounds behind my sternum. I don't know what I can afford.

I've been bouncing around aimlessly for so long. It's not like I have a savings or a budget. I've been a little distracted by the increasing number of threats.

"Maybe, like, fifty? Is that all right?"

"Of course, whatever works for you. The important part is that you're making payments."

I'm a little surprised by how nice the guy is. I've heard horror stories about collections agents.

"Thanks. That's actually really nice of you."

The agent, Eric, gives a little laugh. "I'm not here to be mean. It wouldn't do any good."

I snort a little. "No, I guess it wouldn't."

"I didn't think so. Okay, then, let's get you set up."

Looking around the room for my wallet, I head toward the console table where I usually keep it.

Suddenly, the phone is yanked out of my hand, and Dom holds it to his ear.

"No! I?—"

He turns away, and now I can only hear half of the conversation.

"Hello, this is Dominick Shaw. What is this about?" He pauses. "I see. One moment."

When he turns back to me, I glare hard, but the confident look on Dom's face has me rolling my eyes.

"Say it's all right for this man to talk to me."

He holds the phone in front of my face, not handing it over. I sigh, quickly realizing there's no way I'm winning this one.

"I give my permission to discuss this with Mr. Shaw."

Dom takes the phone back, and I slump down on the couch. At least if he's helping me with the payments, it'll be done quicker.

I still hate needing the help, though.

"Okay, yes. And what's the total amount owed? Okay. Can you take payment over the phone? Great. One second."

Dom breezes past me, and I'm a little confused. He doesn't look over, though. Instead, he just goes for the card in his wallet.

"All right, you ready? No, I'll just take care of it. Yup. Great, ready for the number?"

I don't process what he says immediately, but as he reads off the digits, it hits me.

Shooting up from the couch, I hurry over to him. "Dom, no! You can't be serious."

He doesn't even flinch, finishing the number and confirming the payment in a matter of minutes.

By the time I've thoroughly exhausted myself from trying to wave my hands at him or steal the phone away, it's done.

"All right. You're good to go. No more calls."

He just stands there smirking at me, and I glare back so hard it gives me a headache.

"Dominick Shaw, I can't believe you just did that. I didn't ask for your help. I was fine with making payments."

"And paying interest that should damn well be illegal? No. It would have taken you the rest of your life to pay that off."

Dom walks forward, ignoring my pissed off attitude to wrap his arms around my waist. I won't look at him, but then he lifts my chin.

As our eyes meet, unshed tears begin to burn.

"How exactly did you pay for that?"

"I own several successful businesses. Trust me, I can afford it."

There's nothing to be done now, so I just shake my head before resting it against his chest.

"I didn't need your help."

"You did, and I like to help you, so get over it."

I scoff at him, but it quickly melts into a laugh. He's not wrong.

Burying my face in his chest, I say, "Thank you."

"I'm sorry, what? Can you speak up?"

He leans back, smirking down at me.

"Thank you, Dom." I shake my head. "I…I did need your help. You're truly amazing. You know that?"

"Meh." He shrugs. "I have my moments."

"You do, Mr. Shaw. You sure do."